To come and go

The rest
are roaming lost,
flustered in amazement,
their focused situations branding
the backs of my friends.
Those sacred few
in a river of smiles
and attitudes
where everyone
feels a little lonely
this time of year.

On this angry,
turning road
covered in scars
and debris
from a stronger wind,
I can only concentrate
and do my best
to believe
that I’m really somewhere else.


About Sean O'Gorman

Spoken Word poet from Ottawa. View all posts by Sean O'Gorman

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